


The Doll of London

by Udunie



Category: Original Work
Genre: 19th Century, Double Penetration, Fisting, M/M, Orgy, Period-Typical Racism, Prostitution, Racist Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 03:33:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8605687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Udunie/pseuds/Udunie
Summary: Oren took a deep breath, letting himself feel what a human would; the chill, the smells, the sound of horse hooves on cobblestone. Amazing. No matter how long he lived, Oren never felt more alive than when he walked among mortals.It took him a second to orient himself, the city had changed a bit in his absence. He hoped he didn’t miss too much, otherwise people who used to know him would find his reappearance alarming. Then again, the English had a hard time seeing difference between people who were of other races. If all else failed he would make up a new name for himself.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Delpha](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Delpha).



> First of all, thank you to the lovely Delpha for commissioning me!  
> I would also like to thank Emma, who had been a huge help! <3
> 
> WARNING: The following fic takes place in 19th century London, and it contains (mostly verbal) period-typical racism towards an Eastern Asian looking individual.

 

Oren didn’t much like England. He found that it was a drab place with all the fog and the gloominess. Wasn’t exactly his favorite vacation spot, but lately he had been just  _ itching  _ for a bit of fun.

London might not have been ideal, but he already had an identity there he could use. The China Doll. Oren didn’t always understand humans; how they separated themselves into races by their looks, like it made any difference, but he wasn’t above using it for his own needs.

The English loved him when he got into his chosen human skin. They loved his long, black hair, his dark eyes that they called ‘exotic’, his fair complexion… He looked different than them, and that was enough to get their attention, and Oren wanted that more than anything when he was feeling like this.

He appeared on the streets of the city like the fog that snuck in from above the Thames, draping his body in silk and velvet. The air was cold - for humans - but he didn’t hurry, walking down the street like he owned it.

The sky was already dark, but there was still light in the shops here and there, outlining the men milling about in their funny top hats with their elegant ladies on their arms. 

Oren took a deep breath, letting himself feel what a human would; the chill, the smells, the sound of horse hooves on cobblestone. Amazing. No matter how long he lived, Oren never felt more alive than when he walked among mortals.

It took him a second to orient himself, the city had changed a bit in his absence. He hoped he didn’t miss too much, otherwise people who used to know him would find his reappearance alarming. Then again, the English had a hard time seeing difference between people who were of other races. If all else failed he would make up a new name for himself.

Madame Honora’s house was just a few blocks down, if he remembered right.

Oren looked in the shop windows, the fashion didn’t seem to have changed much - domed skirts, petticoats… He couldn’t have been gone for too long.

There was a policeman standing on the corner, watching him with something close to suspicion. Even in such a big city he was an unusual sight, and he knew it. That didn’t mean he would have to be afraid of the laws of the mortals, though.

Oren cast his eyes to the ground shyly as he walked by, slowing down just a bit and concentrating…

He wasn’t the god of compulsions for nothing - a few seconds later he could hear the policeman take off after him, his shoes echoing on the pavement… not chasing, just following.

Oren smiled and ducked into the next alley.

 

***

 

He arrived at Madame Honora’s house with his mouth still tasting like the seed of that sweet, young bob. Oh, how much he loved humans and the proof of their pleasure.

Oren knocked, pushing his hands into the loose sleeves of his silk shirt. He wasn’t cold, but he knew that he should be.

The woman opening the door had a few more gray hairs than he remembered, a few crow’s feet in the corner of her eyes but otherwise looked just as upstanding and serious as she did the last time he’d been here.

Madame Honora blinked at him, realization slowly changing her face into something a lot more friendly.

“Oh, my, if not the China Doll himself!” she said, her hand flying to her heart. Oren smiled, bowing a little like the English expected from someone who looked like him.

“Madame, it is a pleasure. May we talk?” 

She led him into her living room on the ground floor, serving him a cup of tea.

“Where have you been all this time? I have to tell you darling, all your usual visitors were inconsolable,” he said, her voice full of concern, but her eyes sharp.

Oren took a sip of his tea. That was always annoying about humans; how nosey they could get.

“I’ve had… an arrangement in Paris, an invitation,” he said finally. Yes, that would do.

Madame Honora hummed. Despite all appearances, she didn’t run a brothel exactly. She merely rented out the apartments in her building for young lasses and lads who entertained gentlemen. It was very discreet and high profile and Oren was sure she made a fortune from it.

“Ah, well I guess you can’t say no to that… And how long are you staying? I have to say, if you’re looking for a place, that I’ve been very disappointed that you’d left so suddenly,” she said. Oren barely resisted raising his eyebrow at that. Last time he actually went out with a ‘bang’ and the Madame certainly took a lot of ‘door money’ - as she called it - from the gentlemen who provided the fireworks.

Staying here would not be a good idea. Definitely not on the long term.

“Oh, Madame Honora, I only need a place to stay for the weekend,” he said, looking as earnest as he could manage. He didn’t think she had a lick of pity he could act on, but that didn’t mean he could just give up the charade.

“I don’t think so-”

“Please, I’m begging you!” Oren pleaded, letting his eyes fill with tears as he got ready for the finale. “I’m sure… I’m sure you could contact my old gentlemen friends. I could throw a party, and I would even let you organize it!”

They both knew what that meant, that she would be in charge of the finances of said ‘party’ it wasn’t something she could refuse, the temptation too strong.

And it didn’t hurt that Oren let a bit of his power wash over her, breaking down the woman’s inhibitions just enough that she didn’t question her first instinct.

Honora took a deep breath.

“Alright. I will let you stay for tonight and tomorrow night.”

Oren smiled.

 

***

 

He didn’t get his old rooms back - somebody had taken his place - but he was just as happy with the attic apartment. It was huge with wonderful lighting and plush, red carpets everywhere. It was Honora’s pride and she only broke it out when there was a lot of money to make.

It made Oren hopeful. All the charade of hiding among humans was tiring; what he wanted to do was to get lost in sensation, in the - almost - mortal body he was wearing. He wanted to be adored, he wanted to hand out pleasure like a benediction.

 

***

 

The party started in the afternoon of the next day. One of the other residents of the house agreed to be on greeting duty, managing the small entryway of the attic. Humans were such curious creatures, so scared to compromise their status, their short little lives…

Oren let them, graciously waiting for his visitors in the big living room. The floor was littered with pillows, the small tables by the wall covered in delicate bottles of fragrant oil and toys made of marble and ivory. His could feel his blood sing in his veins as he waited.

The first man arrived a little after five - probably had tea with his wife before heading out, lying that he was going to a gentleman’s club. The man was young, around thirty. He was tall and blond and had a black satin mask covering the upper side of his face.

Oren remembered him from before - some lord or another - but didn’t care for the details. The only thing he cared about was the warm body at his disposal.

“Welcome, sir, I’m so happy that you came to my party,” he said, sweetly, getting up from his place on the floor by the fireplace. He made his body move in a feminine way, letting the silks hiding his skin dance around his lean frame.

The man swallowed, obviously getting more flustered with every step Oren took towards him. The English were weird creatures, so reserved and then not knowing what to do with their passion when they had the chance to act on it.

Oren couldn’t remember his name for the life of him.

“I shall call you Jasper,” he said, winking, licking his lips when he was finally close enough.

“That… that is a wonderful idea,” Jasper said, his blue eyes burning behind his mask. Oren pressed his smaller body against his, looking up at him from under his lashes.

“Why are you so cold, milord Jasper? Did you not miss me?”

He let a thread of his power wrap around the man’s heart, stripping all inhibitions and common sense away until he was left with the parts of him he wanted.

Jasper reacted like a dream, his arms too strong around Oren, pulling him close, their lips meeting with a clank of teeth. He moaned. They both did.

Oren let himself be stripped, his cock stirring at the sound of ripping silk. Yes. Yes this is what he was here for.

“I missed you,” Jasper told him feverishly, “My beautiful, beautiful China Doll… I want to break you into pieces…”

Oren gasped, grabbing onto his broad shoulders as he was lifted off his feet, his legs finding their place around the man’s waist.

“Yes… yes, milord! Show me.”

The fell to the floor, the man blindly grabbing one of the many vials of oil and pouring almost half of the amber liquid on his fingers. Oren closed his eyes, his back arching off the floor when the man started fingering his hole. He didn’t need it; he wasn’t prone to injuries no matter what form he took, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t enjoyable.

“You’re taking it so well, my love,” Jasper said, voice deep, adding a third finger and twisting them inside him. Oren panted, blood soaring from the words as much as the sensation.

“Tell me, tell me more,” he breathed, and got what he wished for.

“You are so beautiful, there’s nobody like you in the world, China Doll, you’ve… you’ve always opened up like a flower… I’ve been yearning for you,” Jasper said, biting at his neck and soothing the small smarts of pain with his clever, soft tongue.

Oren closed his eyes, pulling him closer. Yes. Humans were so easy with praise, so miraculously open in the throws of passion…

Jasper didn’t drag out the preparations, and a moment later he fitted the fat head of his cock to Oren’s hole. There was a tense second of waiting, like he couldn’t believe he could do this again finally, and then he pushed in, fast and rough.

Oren moaned, long and loud, overwhelmed by the feeling of being impaled so thoroughly. He clutched the man’s shoulder, urging him on. Jasper didn’t need much encouragement, pounding into him with quick, short thrusts that shook his body to the core.

He couldn’t even think of is own cock nestled between them hard and aching, too caught up in the feeling of getting so wonderfully debauched.

He didn’t even hear it when the next guest arrived… All he knew is that one second he was gasping for air, and the next there was a pretty, long dick pressing against his lips. He couldn’t say no to it…

The new arrival was a big, burly man with a beard, completely naked, like Jasper but for his mask. Oren loved him on sight; there was strength in that large frame, and he wanted a taste of it. He relaxed his throat, turning his head fully to the side so the man could rut into his mouth. 

There were thick fingers in his hair, pulling on the silky, black strands, keeping his head in place. So good.

Jasper didn’t stop fucking him, hammering into his hole with fervor while the big man - he was going to call him… Onix - choked him with his cock.His eyes rolled back from the pleasure of it. He didn’t need the air like the mortals, but it still his head spinning in the best way.

“Yeah, take it… take it, little Doll,” Onix grunted. His voice was slightly familiar, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered just the heavy cock twitching against the cushion of his tongue and the one stretching his ass.

Oren came like that, whole body going taunt as the euphoria raced up his spine. Jasper collapsed against him, spilling too, but he didn’t want to rest. He wanted more.

He used his power to make the younger man get off him and dig his nails into Onix’ thick thigh to get him to let go.

“Fuck, you’re a clawy little kitten,” he said. Oren didn’t reply. His throat was burning from giving head, but his hole was aching with emptiness and that was unacceptable.

“On your back, milord,” he croaked out, getting on his hands and knees. The man huffed out an indignant laugh, but swallowed heavily when he saw Oren start to crawl towards him.

“Don’t you want me to ride you, milord? It would be good… I will do all the work…”

Onix swore under his breath and lay back against a few pillows on the ground. That was all Oren needed. He climbed up him, straddling his thighs and grabbed his cock, still wet from his saliva.

He loved the look on the man’s face when he sank down on his member. There was wonder there, a kind of awe even a god was hard to come by.

The man’s hands flew to his hips, grabbing him tight enough to bruise, making him hiss out a yes.

When he started to move, he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to stop. It just… felt so good.

“You are a goddess,” Onix blurted out, making him shiver. This one was smart, and caught on immediately. “Oh, you like that? You like men under you while you ride them call you pretty names?”

Oren bit his lip on a smile. He liked this one. 

“You  _ are…  _ you’re beautiful, like an exotic beast, insatiable and fiery…”

His cock twitched at the words, despite having just come a few moments before. When he lifted himself up the next time, Onix’s hands tightened on his hips, keeping him in place as his hips slammed up into him, so deep that it took Oren’s breath away.

“Yeah, take it… you’re better than any women I had…”

Oren threw his head back and laughed.

“Am I?” he asked, eyes shining as he started moving again, not letting Onix take lead. The man grinned up at him.

“You are, better and prettier too. If it weren’t be for this,” he said, grabbing his cock and rubbing the head for a glorious second, making Oren cry out, “I would think you are a lady yourself.”

Oren leaned down, letting his hair fall around them like a dark curtain.

“I don’t mind you treating me like a woman, milord, but I would by no means be a  _ lady _ ,” he whispered, clenching his hole around the man’s throbbing cock and tearing a moan out of him.

 

***

 

He was still riding Onix when the next two guests arrived. One of them had beautiful, dark skin, the other a redhead. Wonderful. Oren did like variety in his men.

He was close to the edge again, but Onix was still going strong. Admirable stamina, that one. He did manage to give a smile to the newcomers. He didn’t recognize either of them, but that meant nothing. He didn’t need faces to have fun.

“Gentlemen,” he gasped out, his long hair sticking to the sweat along his neck. The black one whistled lowly, shaking hands with Jasper who was still recovering on one of the pillows, idly playing with his flaccid cock as he watched Oren.

“He  _ is  _ beautiful,” he said, voice deep and melodious. Oren named him Agate.

He had a big cock, already hard and standing on attention. It almost looked purple.

Oren had to have it.

He reached behind himself, keeping eye-contact with Agate and pressed a finger into his hole beside Onix’s member, making them both moan.

“What the hell…” the man under him moaned, but Oren wasn’t paying attention to him anymore. He had new toys to play with.

“Sir… Come and have me,” he said, letting his body move in a way that would have been the envy of any dancer. Agate swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing alluringly.

“Shouldn’t you finish what you’ve started first, you little harlot?” he asked half jokingly, but Oren wasn’t having any of that.

He bit his lip, lowering his lashes. It would have been easier to use his powers, but he enjoyed the game too much.

“But, milord, wouldn’t it be better for both of you? I would be so tight,” he pleaded, and that was enough. That was more than enough.

“For hell’s sake, man! Just get over here,” Onix growled, spurring the other man into action. His ginger friend chuckled, sitting down beside Jasper and stealing a kiss.

Agate fell to his knees behind him, his large hands finding their way to his chest and immediately starting to pinch and rub at his nipples. Oren let his head fall back to his shoulder, his mouth parted on a silent moan.

“Your skin is so soft,” he murmured, rubbing his cock against the small of Oren’s back.

“I’ve never been with an Eastern whore before.”

“They work the same way,” Onix laughed, pulling Oren down against his chest to give a better view of his ass. “You put it in and you fuck it.”

Yeah, yeah, that was fine with him.

Agate swore under his breath, oiling up and sliding a finger into Oren’s hole. Then another. It was too much. Almost. He could take much more than a mortal, but there was something extremely satisfying in letting his body experience that moment of hurt.

He did scream when Agate finally pressed into him, stretching him perfectly. Oren couldn’t find his breath, his lungs burning empty as his body hummed with the sensation of being filled like this.

Onix and Agate didn’t dare to more for a second. He didn’t know if they were afraid for his sake, or just too overwhelmed, but it didn’t really matter. All that mattered was the pleasure building in his belly and the two cocks pulsing in his hole.

 

***

 

It was almost midnight by the time all the guests arrived - all dozen of them - and by then Oren was barely himself. He was  _ covered  _ in come. It sat thick on his tongue, the smell of it filling up his nose and drying tacky on his skin. 

His hole was loose and soft, reddened and open for anyone to use, and use him they did. 

Oren loved every minute of it. He loved to chase that feeble feeling of too much, that second of overstimulation before his body healed all the hurts away. It made him feel alive.

“Come now, beautiful, we are not finished yet,” someone said. He was pulled into a lap but was too tired to even hold himself upright. He could barely feel it when the man started fucking him. His hole made sloppy sounds as all the loads of come in him were stirred up again, frothing out of his lax entrance beside the cock pounding into him.

He clung to the man’s shoulder with the last of his strength, letting himself be jarred and jostled, his soft, spent cock rubbing against the coarse hair on his belly.

“That’s it, little China Doll, you are being so good for us…” the man whispered. Someone from behind stroke his ass, dipping three fingers into his hole.

“He’s right, I’ve never seen anyone quite like you.”

Oren let the words wash over him. They felt good, like the caress of sunshine. Humans were really wonderful.

He barely noticed when it was over; the man holding him twitched and stilled, and there was a new wetness bubbling out of him.

A pair of hands pulled him away, laid his body out on the soft cushions and Oren went with it, limbs loose and lips parted.

Blinking his eyes open was an effort, but he still mustered up a smile when he saw Ginger above him. He had been lovely, fucked him at least twice.

“How are you doing, little Doll? You’ve worn out all of us,” he said. The room was almost completely quiet. Some had already left, some fell asleep - tired and satisfied.

Oren smacked his lips. They were sticky with come.

“I want more,” he managed, and it had Ginger laughing at him. It wasn’t a mean laugh though, it was one filled with wonder.

“More? I don’t think I can have you again, but I’m sure there are other ways to quelch you thirst,” he said. 

His hands were gentle as they parted Oren’t legs, his fingers warm as they found his hole, playing with the sensitive, overstimulated rim until he wanted to sob.

Ginger didn’t torture him for long.

“I will give you something for sure, beautiful,” he said and pushed. Four of his fingers slipped in easily, their way paved by countless rounds of fucking. Still, it made him moan.

“That’s right, you just relax, China Doll, leave the rest to me.”

Oren closed his eyes and obeyed, pulling his knees up to give better access.

Ginger chuckled and started fingering him, slow and easy. There wasn’t even need for more oil, not with Oren’t ass already dripping and overflowing, ruining the lush red carpet on the floor.

He floated on the wonderful sensations until he could feel Ginger tucking his thumb into the cone of his fingers, applying slow but relentless pressure.

Oh. Oh, that was amazing.

Oren turned his face into the cool pillow under his head and forced his body to relax. He couldn’t remember ever doing this, letting a man do something so… intimate. He didn’t know how it would feel, he had no idea what to expect, but when it finally happened; when Ginger’s hand popped through the last of his resistance it was like flying apart. He was full. Fuller than ever before, but there was no pain, just a soft glow covering his senses and pull him along like the Moon pulled the tide.

Ginger was kissing his neck, sucking on his nipples and biting along his ribs, his hand never stopping, working him over from the inside out.

Oren grabbed him, tangled his fingers in his red locks and yanked him up for a kiss. 

Come morning he would disappear, retreat with the fog like he was never here, but until then? Until then he was free.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment if you like it!
> 
> you can find me at udunie.tumblr.com


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